They stride into our world,
legs sheathed in Levis,
 
baseball caps, shades of pastel,
adorning heads.
 
Their movement, unlike ours,
effortless, we who stand
 
on distended feet
at day’s end, lowering
 
congealed frames
into plastic seats
 
inside the bus that will haul us
to obscure apartments,
 
retreat from a public
that we peruse,
 
smile at, or abruptly
curse.
 
Yet, we  bless
these beings, knowing
 
we shall submit,
contemplating those who will gently lift
 
the present into a world
we shall never see.